


Fearful Symmetry

by cowboykaiju



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, but luckily dorothea is patient, caspar has a cat named chicken wing :), edelgard has the worst case of comphet ever seen, mostly black eagle centric but you can assume everyone else will make appearances, ultimate frisbee au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2020-12-14 05:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21010298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykaiju/pseuds/cowboykaiju
Summary: As Captain of the Garreg Mach University Ultimate Frisbee Team, Edelgard has three goals:1. Consume less sugar.2. Understand the nuanced intricacies of love, and recognize symptoms of love within herself.3. Again, cut back on sugar, it's becoming an issue.Alternatively: Two girls find the previously undiscovered secrets of love through the glorified sport of frisbee.





	1. Chapter 1

Ultimate frisbee was, to put it simply, an extreme game of monkey in the middle. It’s all about getting the frisbee to the players in the endzone to score, but the frisbee-holder can only pivot on their dominant foot. It’s made purely of interceptions, good-spirited players, and a sense of humility. Edelgard herself had laughed when, as a freshman, she saw the Garreg Mach Ultimate Frisbee Organization trying to recruit new members at the extracurricular fair. The joke’s on her now, though, as she takes the position of the Black Eagle Ultimate Frisbee Team _ captain _ in her third year at GMU.

During her visits home, her father always laments that she didn’t do any _ real _ sports like volleyball or softball, but Edelgard pays him no mind. Her father hadn’t even gone to any of her games when she _ did _ play softball in high school; she’s never quite been impressive enough for him. Edelgard could have invented the toaster, and her father would still complain that it didn’t have enough settings.

Her teammates were what truly brought light to frisbee. Edelgard would like to think that over the years, they’ve developed a sort of kinship. Where Edelgard’s father failed in supporting her, her team cheered her on unwaveringly.

“You gotta do Linhardt too, or you’re a bitch.” Caspar challenges Edelgard, sitting right between her shoulder blades as she does push-ups in the middle of their training field.

“Too easy,” Edelgard grunts through gritted teeth, but her arms already shaking after just twenty push-ups with Caspar on top of her.

“Linhardt!” Caspar calls, “Come help!”

Linhardt lay sprawled out in the grass with Bernadetta after a particularly exhausting set of burpees. At Caspar’s cry, Linhardt props himself up on his elbows to squint at the pair, maybe ten yards away. “I don’t really want to.” He calls back.

Caspar pouts. Linhardt pouts.

“Fine!” Caspar gives in, “You’re safe this time Edelgard, but if Ferdinand were here, you’d be done for!” He declares. He heaves himself off of her, and she lets out a sharp sigh in relief, allowing herself to finally collapse against the warm grass of the training field.

Caspar storms away, Edelgard guesses to join Linhardt and Bernadetta in cloud watching. They were supposed to set up at the quad tomorrow to try to get new recruits, but Edelgard was keeping her expectations low. Maybe three people would sign their recruitment sheet, and most likely none of them would follow up on their emails for practice times.

A set of shoes step in front of her very abruptly, and Edelgard feebly lifts her head to follow the sensible loafers to a recognisable figure. She drops her head once more when she confirms that it’s just Lorenz.

“Get up babe, I got you a frappuccino.” Lorenz nudges her shoulder with his foot. It may have been gross, but Edelgard knows he shines and cleans his nice shoes weekly.

Edelgard very slowly rises, the ache of her arms that she knows will lead to a heavy soreness tomorrow dominates her body. She brushes grass and dirt off of her knees, and eyes the pink drink wearily, “I’m trying to cut down on my sugar intake.”

“But it’s strawberry.” Lorenz frowns.

Edelgard grumbles in protest (nothing audible), but takes the drink from Lorenz’s hand. Dieting was useless when Lorenz constantly bought her chocolates and frappes.

“Are you ready to go home yet?”

Edelgard takes a moment to run through a checklist in her head before nodding slowly. “Yeah, just have to make sure we’re set for tomorrow.” She leads Lorenz over to where Caspar, Linhardt, and Bernadetta lie. Bernadetta has fallen into a deep, peaceful slumber while Caspar and Linhardt whisper to each other so as not to wake her. “Caspar, are you going to help Ferdinand and I recruit tomorrow?”

“For sure! I’m determined to beat last year’s recruitment.”

“Last year’s recruitment was zero, Caspar.”

“And I’m going to beat it!” Caspar promises with a sparkling grin.

Edelgard looks over to Linhardt, and they silently share a moment of doubt.

Lorenz, growing impatient, speaks up. “Are you ready to go, sweetie?”

Caspar and Linhardt make exaggerated gagging noises, clutching their stomachs in emphasis, and Edelgard pretends not to notice.

“Uh, yeah, that’s all we really have to go over.” She looks back down, “I’ll talk to you guys later - and _ please _ make sure you wake Bernadetta up before she gets a sunburn.”

“Of course, _ sweetie _.” Caspar teases cheekily.

Edelgard sticks her middle finger out at him before she and Lorenz walk out to the parking lot. She can hear Caspar and Linhardt giggling between themselves the entire way.

She knows her team doesn’t quite understand her and Lorenz’s relationship - it’s a bit strangely matched, but Edelgard likes him! He’s prone to romantic gestures, has a shared love for flowers, and has very useful connections to certain political leaders that could advance Edelgard’s budding career in political science; he was a _ dream_. His only true fault is his neediness. She isn’t nearly as keen on affection as he is, and that often poses a problem for him. Edelgard thinks that even holding hands with Lorenz is too much PDA.

Otherwise, he would make a suitable husband, she thinks.

“Anything you need before I drop you off?” He asks as they buckle into his Lexus - a very expensive birthday gift from his father.

“I don’t think so.”

The rest of the car ride is silent aside from the classical music station Lorenz never strays from. Edelgard _ could _ drive herself and play some more contemporary music - or even a nice podcast -, but she prefers not having to pay for a university parking permit. She’s got enough on her mind with rent and work; worrying about parking might just send her over the edge.

When Lorenz does reach her apartment, he leans over the center console and places a soft kiss on Edelgard’s temple. “Text me when you’re in safely.”

“Of course, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She grabs her backpack and gym bag, and makes it halfway out of the vehicle before Lorenz continues.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow!”

Edelgard blushes in embarrassment, “I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.” She returns, just a loud enough mumble for Lorenz to be able to hear it. Sometimes, Lorenz was just too much for her.

-

  


Later that night, as Edelgard lay snugly beneath three layers of fuzzy blankets on her couch watching X-Files episodes she had already seen, she swipes through her messages.

**Edelgard**

Inside now

**Lorenz Gloucester**

Just made it home <3 <3

**Lorenz Gloucester**

Baby, just saw a flower and thought of you <3

**Lorenz Gloucester**

[1 Image attachment]

Edelgard closes the messaging app with a sigh. She just wants to be alone with Scully and Mulder for the evening - just this one evening. But as soon as she commits to Ghost in the Machine, her phone buzzes. And when Edelgard decides to ignore that, too, it buzzes again. And again. Until she has no choice but to check her notifications.

**Sex God Caspar**

we shoudl have a sleepover sometime soon u guys

**Linhardt :)**

you mean you’re going to make everyone watch the sandlot again

**Sex God Caspar**

tahts us tho!! we r the sandlot !!! but frisbee

**Ferdinand Von Aegir**

I could bring my copy of Braveheart instead.

**Sex God Caspar**

fuk u, we r not wathcing braveheart

**Linhardt :)**

that sounds worse, ferdinand

**Hubert**

I have a horror movie collection.

**Petra**

Hubert , that is sounding delightful !

**Linhardt :)**

finally someone with some fucking sense

**Bernadetta!**

aaaaaahhh, i don’t really like horror movies >.<

**Sex God Caspar**

me beither ghosts suckk, give me smthing i can PUNCH

**Ferdinand Von Aegir**

I liked the conjuring, can we watch that?

**Hubert**

Yes. I have one and two.

**Linhardt :)**

horror movies win, 4:2

**Sex God Caspar**

what abt edelgard!!! i bet shed like the sandlot more !!!

**Linhardt :)**

it’d still be majority for horror

**Linhardt :)**

she’d be too busy trading poetry with lorenz to go to our sleepover anyways

**Sex God Caspar**

LMAOOOO

**Sex God Caspar**

they don’t fuck they just read erotica 4 feet away from eachother

**Linhardt :)**

fdhsjakl but their erotica is just the bibliography page to a book about world war 2

**Edelgard**

I’m literally right here

**Sex God Caspar**

r we wrong tho

**Edelgard**

:(

Edelgard switches her phone to Do Not Disturb and tosses it onto the carpet with a deep eye roll that nobody is there to witness.

-

It had been three hours and only a small handful of people had even stopped to look at the ultimate frisbee table. A few times an hour, Caspar would drop to do push-ups to garner attention, until someone mistook them for the army recruitment table.

Instead, at Caspar’s insistence, they pass the time by playing three-way games of rock-paper-scissors to see who fortune favored. The score now was 42 wins for Edelgard, 36 for Ferdinand, and 3 for Caspar. Neither Edelgard or Ferdinand tell Caspar that he only throws scissors.

“Ultimate frisbee?” Somebody asks suddenly, and they are all jerked out of their rock-paper-scissors mojo.

Caspar quickly shifts to the center their fold-out table, grabbing one of the flyers they had printed in excess. “You bet! No other sport compares!”

The potential recruit appears to have her doubts as she takes the flyer from Caspar. Edelgard can almost _ see _ her thought process in thinking competitive frisbee was ridiculous.

“I know it sounds pretty silly,” Edelgard speaks up, “but it’s really fun. It’s not super competitive, even when we travel around for tournaments. If you have a heavy class load, ultimate frisbee isn’t a distraction or an extra burden; it’s a great way to unwind.”

She considers it for a moment, “And you guys have tryouts?”

Edelgard almost laughs; if they had tryouts they wouldn’t have a team.“No, you’re apart of the team as soon as you declare it. What’s your name?”

“Dorothea.”

“Oh, I like that, makes you sound like a character from a Jane Austen novel.” Edelgard tells her, and for that moment she forgets she’s supposed to be recruiting her.

Dorothea giggles delightfully, “Close, actually, my mom named me after Elliot’s Middlemarch. Same wheelhouse, you know.”

“That’s really cool, I actually really enjoyed Middlemarch.” Edelgard says, and she hesitates to redirect the conversation back to ultimate frisbee. “Well, _ Dorothea _, I think you should really try joining us for ultimate frisbee this friday.”

Her eyes linger on Edelgard for a moment longer before shifting to the sign-up sheet. She signs her name, and Caspar jumps and pumps his fist in the air. “Oh man, you won’t regret this!” He enthuses.

“And, you know,” Ferdinand, now leaning on the table over Dorothea, takes a long and unnecessarily dramatic pause. “_ I’m _on the team. If you came, it’d be a really great chance to get to know each other.”

Edelgard cringes visibly, and so does Dorothea.

She looks at Ferdinand, and back to her name on the sign-up sheet, “Is it too late to scratch my name out?”

Caspar cries out very suddenly and shoves Ferdinand to the side like a ragdoll. “Don’t mind him, he’s not even that good, don’t worry.” Caspar rushes out.

Laughing, Dorothea puts the pen down and stands to address Edelgard, specifically. “And you’re on the team, right?”

Edelgard is caught off guard for a moment, “Uh, yeah, I’m the captain, actually.”

She grins, “Great. I’m looking forward to joining.”

Edelgard blinks in confusion, and has to take a moment to process what she could have meant by that. It’s Caspar, as the only remaining competent person, who calls out to her as she turns to leave, “Practice on Friday at three in the Saint Cichol field!”

Ferdinand whimpers, “She was so hot, I thought I had a chance.” A voice in the back of Edelgard’s head is in full agreement with Ferdinand.

“Were you flirting with her?” Caspar asks Edelgard.

“No, of course not. That wasn’t flirting. Did it sound like I was flirting?” A panic rises through Edelgard.

“Hmm,” Caspar considers for a moment. “Suppose I just imagined it.”

That was enough to soothe Edelgard. “You guys think she’ll actually show?”

“God, I hope so. If she doesn’t, I wouldn’t have signed _ anyone _up.” Caspar grumbles.

-

When that Friday does slither around the corner and Edelgard is driving herself to practice, she feels especially nervous to find out if Dorothea would actually attend. She sent her an email after the fair just to follow up with practice details in case she forgot, but received no response (of course email certainly isn’t the most reliable method of correspondence).

Her fears are alleviated when she gets to the practice field and Dorothea is already stretching with Hubert and Ferdinand. She feels silly for worrying. Even more, she’s quite impressed that Dorothea had been dedicated enough to show up almost thirty minutes early.

“Good afternoon.” Hubert greets her first, being the only one to have noticed Edelgard’s arrival.

Immediately, Dorothea pivots on her left foot to face her, an arm awkwardly bent behind her shoulder mid-stretch. “Hi Edelgard!” She beams.

Edelgard returns the smile, “Glad to see you showed up.”

Dorothea is suddenly bashful; she draws her stretched-out arm back to its side and shifts from foot to foot. “Oh, yeah, I figured I should try something new this semester.”

Edelgard leans forward on her toes to pat the back of Dorothea’s shoulder, “We’re all very excited to have a new member on the team.”

Edelgard joins them in their stretches, and takes the time to give Dorothea a quick crash course on the rules of frisbee. She nods along and says she understands, but Edelgard can’t tell if she’s just _ saying _ she understands; only an actual scrimmage would tell. Within the next thirty minutes, the remainder of the team slowly trickles in, the last person to arrive being Linhardt (just a few seconds shy of being admonishably late).

Caspar leads the introductions to Dorothea, which are fast and easy. There seems to be an exciting buzz amongst the team at finally having a new player - and a _ girl _at that. At least, Feridnand looks absolutely ecstatic, as if he had forgotten all about Tuesday’s rejection. When Edelgard first joined, she herself almost went on a date with him, but Lorenz asked her out before Ferdinand could (this was before Lorenz had grown his hair out, which only served to hurt Ferdinand’s feelings more).

“We’re going to split into teams, but as a sort of christening, Dorothea gets to choose her team and leave the rest of the stragglers to their own team.” Edelgard motions to Dorothea, who is visibly overtaken with a brief moment of panic.

“I barely even know the rules, though.” She laughs nervously.

Edelgard pats her shoulder yet again, and briefly wonders if she was doing so excessively. “Don’t worry, just pick people out at random. You get to choose three teammates.”

Four versus four isn’t the most ideal scrim set-up; it left a lot of open field and meant each player had to run twice as much than in a regular seven versus seven game . But at least now their team could be split evenly.

“You gotta choose me, Dorothea, I’m real strong.” Caspar raises up both his arms in a power pose and flexes his bicep to punctuate his point.

Linhardt’s nose scrunches up from next to him, “A real strong smell.” He grumbles.

Caspar frowns and puts his arms down, “I don’t have time to put on deodorant _ every _day!”

“That’s gross, Caspar.” Bernadetta sighs.

Ferdinand speaks up, as Caspar frowns and reconsiders his hygiene practices, “Dorothea should choose me anyways; I’m a fox and I _ always _smell like freshly brewed bergamot tea.”

Dorothea seems to consider it before announcing her first pick, “Edelgard.”

Ferdinand and Caspar frowned deeply, and Edelgard moves to stand directly next to Dorothea with a smug smile.

Dorothea spends the next few moments in careful consideration, as if she’s assigning each person strength, speed, and dexterity stats in her head. “Petra and Bernadetta.”

“She wounds me.” Ferdinand groans, clutching at his heart. Edelgard sticks her tongue out at him in response.

Truthfully, she has no idea what strategy Dorothea was going for here. She and Petra were understandable picks; they’re both lean and muscular (Edelgard will not admit to have worn the workout outfit that most obviously showed her hard-earned muscle definition - if only just to let Dorothea know her position as team captain was not just for show, of course), but Bernadetta was built like a shaking twig.

Edelgard passed it off as nerves. Or maybe a fun boys versus girls match.

The scrimmage begins, and Dorothea was actually pretty good. She’s fast on her feet, and Hubert only flags her on false pivots twice. Ferdinand keeps trying to guard her, which is really just him chasing her and trying to wheeze out compliments about her footwork. Edelgard picks up on a lot of potential in Dorothea.

She exploits the fact that the enemy team would underestimate her and try to go easy. Anytime she could, she threw Dorothea the frisbee, and Petra picks up on this strategy fairly quickly as well. Dorothea has the disc in her hands over sixty percent of the game, and Ferdinand isn’t fast enough to outrun her.

She scores a lot.

She understands exactly where she should be positioned and when, far more than any rookie Edelgard had ever seen. In the last few minutes of the game, they were just barely in a lead that Caspar and Ferdinand’s brute strength couldn’t outmaneuver. Edelgard wasn’t playing to win, she was playing to test Dorothea - but the win was certainly a morale boost.

At the end, everyone is exhausted. Linhardt dramatically throws himself into the grass, and has no intention to get up anytime soon. Linhardt yelps like a chihuahua when Caspar piles on top of him, but does not try to push him off.

The rest of the team congregates towards the bleachers where all their water bottles and shoes were left earlier. Dorothea chugs a bottle of Dasani, while Edelgard herself takes conservative sips from her own bottle of water knowing too much water after a scrimmage would make her queasy.

“Nice win.” Ferdinand congratulates Dorothea.

“Ah, it was all luck.” Dorothea waves her hand in dismissal. “But it was nice to knock you on your ass a little bit.”

“Oh, so you’re thinking about my ass?” Ferdinand retorts.

Dorothea stares at him, pursed lips.

“I’m sorry.” Ferdinand concedes shamefully.

Edelgard quickly speaks up to reroute the conversation, “I am curious: why did you choose Bernie, Petra, and I?”

Dorothea grins devilishly and shrugs, “I chose the hottest members.”

Ferdinand, from behind them, whimpers, “She holds my heart in her hands and she stamps it upon the floor!” He declares dramatically. He swoons, calculatedly falling against Hubert’s chest like a 19th century british romance novel protagonist. Hubert does not budge.

“That is _ quite _ flattering.” Petra responds, quite smugly.

Dorothea watches Edelgard try to hide her blush by taking three large gulps of water, and Edelgard pretends neither of them exists for a brief moment.

“Twilight Princess has pulled up to the scene!” Caspar shouts from his cuddle puddle with Linhardt.

Edelgard’s head whips towards the parking lot where, in fact, Lorenz was climbing out of his car with two Starbucks drink trays in hand.

“Who?” Dorothea mumbles to herself, and nobody gives her an answer.

Lorenz strides towards them, using his hip to bump open the gate around the field so as not to upset the very fragile balance of drinks in his hands.

“Good afternoon, Lorenz.” Hubert greets cordially. Ferdinand stands up straight and waves somewhat stiffly.

“Hello,” Lorenz smiles curtly, and gives a swift kiss to Edelgard’s cheek.

Edelgard nervously looks to Dorothea, who watches with narrowed eyes.

Lorenz then begins distributing drinks, “A black iced coffee for Hubert, the Tea of The Day for Ferdinand, two hibiscus teas for Bernadetta and Petra, and a strawberry frappuccino for my princess.”

“_ Princess _.” Ferdinand repeats through a snort. “Holy shit, why aren’t Caspar and Lin here right now.”

Edelgard flushes, but takes her drink gratefully. Frappuccinos and coffee really is the worst drink after a workout, but nobody had the heart to decline Lorenz.

Lorenz sets the tray down on the bleachers, where two untouched drinks sit, presumably for Caspar and Linhardt. “I am so sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before.” He turns to Dorothea.

“We certainly haven’t.” Dorothea responds slowly.

“Lorenz Gloucester, Edelgard’s boyfriend.”

“_ Boyfriend? _” Dorothea blurts out, and then immediately slaps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, yeah, boyfriend, that’s really, really cool.”

Lorenz tilts his head at her in confusion. “Uh. Yeah. And your name?”

“Oh, right, Dorothea Arnault.” She extends a hand towards him, and he takes it gladly.

“Arnault! That sounds familiar, is your family perhaps in the plastics industry?”

“No.”

“Wood industry?”

“No.”

“Pharmacy?”

“Uh, no, no industry.” Dorothea withdraws her hand from Lorenz, and Edelgard feels like dying of embarrassment. Lorenz, unintentionally abrasive in nature, has made Dorothea uncomfortable - a new _ friend _ and a new _ teammate _. He could be the reason she never returns for another practice!

“So sorry I didn’t get a drink for you, I had no idea.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Dorothea brushes off.

Edelgard, very suddenly, jerks her drink out to Dorothea. “You can have mine.”

“I don’t really think-” Dorothea begins, but Edelgard quickly cuts her off.

“Really, just take it.” Edelgard insists with pleading eyes. It’s a peace offering, an apology of sorts for Lorenz.

“But, baby, I got that for _ you _ . It’s _ strawberry _.” Lorenz protests, and further complicates the drink debacle.

“Lorenz, please.” She gives him a dangerous look, and he quickly backs off and turns away from the conversation as a whole. “It’s too much sugar for me anyways.”

Dorothea takes the drink with both hands and a very soft thank you. Edelgard, understandably, didn’t feel any better about the interaction as a whole. She was only put at ease when she was leaving practice, and Dorothea seemed genuine in her excitement for the next practice

-

_ Dorothea _ has joined the chat

**Edelgard**

Welcome Dorothea!

**Dorothea**

Hi guys!

**Sex God Caspar**

he’ll ya!

**Linhardt :)**

hi dorothea

**Bernadetta!**

hiii!! ‘V’

**Sex God Caspar**

ferdie just told me about PRINCESS and holy shit

**Sex God Caspar**

please who has admin controls PLEASE chance edelgards name 2 princess

**Hubert**

No.

**Linhardt :)**

omg yes please

**Hubert**

No.

**Ferdinand Von Aegir**

Haha, that’d be hilarious

**Hubert**

Okay, fine.

**Princess Edelgard**

:( Guys :(

**Princess Edelgard**

:( GUYS :(

**Sex God Caspar**

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Dorothea**

OMG

**Linhardt :)**

fhdjksalfdhjkl;sa

**Princess Edelgard**

Hubert please…

**Hubert**

I’m sorry, I’ll change it.

**Empress Edelgard**

Thank you.

**Empress Edelgard**

Wait -

**Sex God Caspar**

EMPRESS

**Linhardt :)**

somehow very fitting

**Ferdinand Von Aegir**

Nice one, Hubort!!

**Ferdinand Von aegir**

Hubert* sorry

**Dorothea**

Wow, a woman with a title

**Empress Edelgard**

:( 

**Dorothea**

It’s cute!!

**Empress Edelgard**

At least this one is kind of empowering

**Petra**

What’d I miss. Was too busy eating out.

**Linhardt :)**

?????

**Sex God Caspar**

busy WHAT???

**Dorothea**

God I wish that were me

**Petra**

?

**Petra**

Taco Bell.

**Dorothea**

Nvm


	2. Chapter 2

Edelgard misses two practices in a row, something entirely unavoidable.

Hanneman, the state senate candidate she’s been employed by, had asked her to join him on a trip upstate to rally support. It would have been enjoyable if she didn’t spend the entire time hot glued to her laptop, either desperately trying to keep up with schoolwork or helping book local venues with the other campaign interns. Lorenz joined her on the trip, purely for his own personal ties with Hanneman, and seems to spend the two weeks a tourist rather than a worker. Had Edelgard a moment to feel anything other than urgency, she may have resented him.

When she finally does get back into town, her muscles ache with inactivity and restlessness. Two practices and eight gym visits, tragically mourned by the muscles of her thighs.

The second Lorenz drops her off at her apartment, Edelgard tosses her luggage haphazardly on her living room sofa and grabs a pre-packed gym bag she keeps in case of emergencies. Without a moment's consideration for watering her plants or checking on her goldfish, she heads directly to the campus gym.

She arrives a full six hours later than she would normally work out, but the gym is open until eleven, and an hour and a half of no-limits running is better than a night tossing and turning in bed. While she would obviously prefer to get her usual workout routine of an hour of running followed by another hour and a half of weight lifting, she’s glad to be able to settle for a run.

The women’s locker room is empty, a symptom of the late hour. Edelgard would normally take her clothes and change in a stall (she wasn’t ashamed of her body, but something about changing in front of other girls made her nervous), but the locker rooms are so deserted that she figures she can change out in the open without insecurity.

Edelgard takes extra care folding up her work clothes properly to prevent unsightly creases. This blouse was especially susceptible to wrinkles that could survive several wash cycles, and she wants to kick herself for not having changed when she got home. She carefully places them back into her gym bag.

Edelgard then very leisurely pulls her bra off, relishing in this moment where the underwire is no longer digging into her ribs. She rubs the uncomfortable red marks underneath her breasts, and winces just a bit. It was almost two weeks straight of her nicest, laciest bras - the price of politics and professional dress.

When she does pull on her sports bra, it’s with relief at the soft elastic band. With much less care than she had given her blouses, she disregards her lace bra onto the bench next to her gym bag. She sighs once more, stretches for just a moment, and pulls on her track pants.

The shirt clenched in her fist does not make it on her body before, very suddenly, the locker room door swings open.

“Oh!” Edelgard’s back snaps to a rigid, straight posture. “Dorothea!”

Dorothea stops, barely a step into the locker room. “Edelgard!”

They are both momentarily stunned to see each other so abruptly.

“You haven’t been to practice.” Dorothea comments, finally.

Edelgard, in her mind, prays that Dorothea has the discretion to walk to the lockers across from her, or even the next row over. Yet, as if a curse was placed upon Edelgard, she walks over to the locker next to her.

“I had work, but I’m excited to come back to practice this Friday.” Edelgard nervously crosses her arms over her chest, very acutely aware that she is shirtless and this sports bra is over six years old - and _ looks _as old as it is.

“I, for one, missed you quite a bit.” Dorothea grins. Her eyes trail down from Edelgard’s own eyes, sweep over her body, and land at her gym bag. Edelgard doesn’t have time to be embarrassed about that before a new subject for humiliation is brought up. “Oooo, that’s a really cute bra.” She leans over to grab the lace bra on top of Edelgard’s duffel bag, and Edelgard is _ mortified. _ “Lorenz sure is lucky, huh?” She winks cheekily.

Edelgard’s face is bright red, and she’s slack-jawed as she watches Dorothea pull at the straps of her bra before putting it down; it’s a bit _ inappropriate _ of Dorothea, she thinks. “Y-yeah, Lorenz. Yeah.”

Dorothea looks back at Edelgard and tilts her head. “You okay?”

Edelgard only hums, snapping her attention back to the t-shirt bunched up in her right hand. She pulls it on in an attempt to gain competency and save face. Next to her, Dorothea has slipped out of her skirt and blouse, and when Edelgard turns to look at her and wish her a good workout, she’s in her underwear. Edelgard’s words are trapped in the net of her mouth.

Then, Dorothea’s hands reach up to unclasp her bra, and Edelgard can’t stand to be in that locker room anymore. “I’llseeyoulaterDorothea.” Edelgard rushes out all at once as she shoves her duffel bag into a locker and slams it shut.

She’s out of the locker room by the time Dorothea can even process what she said.

Edelgard runs around the track that borders the cardio theater on the third floor until she feels like she could puke out her largest intestine; it doesn’t sound pleasant, but it’s when her body feels most like her own. Edelgard doesn’t see Dorothea once, and she feels bad to admit that she’s glad. She doesn’t think she could manage seeing her again right now.

She spends most of her running time trying to repress the memory of the locker room that plays over and over again in her head. She acted like a fool, Dorothea must know, and she must atone for that.

-

Edelgard gets home a quarter past eleven, and collapses directly into her couch (after making sure her business professional clothes make it on a hanger, of course) . She attempts to resume her X-Files episode, glad that the shame of the day has finally passed and would not return for at least a few hours. It wasn’t as bad as it felt, Edelgard told herself over and over again on the drive home until it felt real and solid in her mind. But now, without shame, she feels something she hasn’t felt in a long time: _ horny _.

**Edelgard**

Lorenz?

**Lorenz Gloucester**

Are you also having trouble with the 4322 homework?

**Edelgard**

No, I finished that last night in the hotel. Are you free right now? Can you come over - no homework?

**Lorenz Gloucester**

Oh? Sure, I shall pack an outfit for tomorrow as well, I might get too sleepy to drive myself home.

**Edelgard**

Sure, I don’t really care.

Lorenz is at her apartment within fifteen minutes, an entire suitcase with him.

“Are you moving in or something?” Edelgard jokes half-heartedly when she opens her front door.

“Well, I had to bring my satin pajamas _ and _my french press, of course. No slight upon you, but I can’t stand the taste of anything a Keurig produces.” He tells her as if she should have already known. Edelgard must suppress an eyeroll.

Lorenz spends ten entire minutes changing into his pajamas. Edelgard lies back down on her couch and waits for him (it seems she’s always waiting for him, these days).

“X-Files again?” Lorenz frowns, approaching the couch, “I’ll never understand what you see in this show.”

Edelgard shrugs, a disdainful comment held just at the tip of her tongue. Lorenz takes a seat next to her, folding his legs onto the couch like a sweet princess gazing out her castle window.

Edelgard looks at him curiously. She considers approaching him, kissing him, letting a makeout session progress naturally - but things never seem to happen organically with Lorenz. She may reach a hand over to his thigh, and he would very snappily tell her to be careful with the fabric.

“Do you want to make out?” Edelgard asks instead.

Lorenz hums in thought. “I suppose.”

And that was enough foreplay them. In the next moment, Lorenz towers over her on the couch as they lay together, her fingers on the soft satin of his velvet-lined pajama suit.

Edelgard is having a good enough time; Lorenz’s lips are soft and he’s a very considerate kisser. No tongue, no aggression - just a good, plain makeout session. His weight on top of her wasn’t imposing; he was built like a serf in the renaissance after all. But, God, she was horny. Admittedly, they hadn’t had sex yet - as if a ‘yet’ was even in the picture. It wasn’t even a topic of conversation for them. Neither seemed particularly interested, but, right now, Edelgard wants (_ needs _) the satisfaction.

Her fingers trail up the satin of Lorenz’s shirt over his ribs. They count upwards, three ribs, before just reaching the bottom of his chest. They glide heavenwards on his chest and freeze suddenly:

_ His chest. _

Her fingers seem lost, stuck at the center of his chest.

She can’t describe it, the feeling that she was searching for something that she knew wasn’t there, and still being disappointed somehow. The abrupt discovery that there was nothing to discover to begin with.

“You okay?” Lorenz breathes out, sitting up just enough to give Edelgard space to breathe.

Edelgard stares up at his chest, barren and bony and missing. “Uh, y-yeah. I’m just tired I think.” She stammers. She pushes her palms against his shoulders, and when he sits up completely, she slips out from underneath him.

“Ah, well, we do have an early morning tomorrow.” Lorenz tells her in his usual sweet and forgiving nature. “I’ll head to bed, and you can follow when you would like.”

“I’m just going to take a shower first.” Edelgard rubs her eyes, as if that could clear the fog clouding her head.

Edelgard spends the next full hour with her back against the shower tile, three fingers deep into herself. While she might insist that she didn’t picture anything and this was merely a means to an end, there was a brief moment where she imagined her fingers _ had _ found warmth in Lorenz. Soft flesh, familiar flesh, that she could sink her teeth into and scratch her nails on - but not the bony taut chest Lorenz had. But, as soon as it entered her mind, she was already over the edge and pushing it back down to the deepest crevices of her brain. The locker room, the makeout session, chests: it could all be dealt with at a later time when she was ready.

When Edelgard does go to bed, Lorenz is already fast asleep. They fall asleep peacefully on their own respective side of the bed.

-

The friday she finally gets back to practice, she feels everything outside of the world of frisbee dissolve. She’s never been particularly poetic, but something about the catharsis of throwing the frisbee as far as she can is almost metaphorical - but what the metaphor is exactly, she doesn’t know.

Linhardt is being lulled to sleep as Dorothea very meticulously braids a ribbon that had previously been used to tie up her ponytail into his hair. She and Petra talk about a new movie Edelgard has no plans of ever seeing, and on the other side of the field, Ferdinand and Caspar are wrestling (or _ something _of that nature). Hubert sits next to Edelgard in silence. It was late enough to where the shadow of the field’s outhouse twenty feet away is stretched out and just reaches the tips of Hubert's feet. Hubert silently pulls out a deck of cards and shuffles them, no intention of playing.

It’s the most at-peace Edelgard has felt in a long time, even before the trip upstate with Hanneman and Lorenz. Maybe even _ ever _.

The grass is warm against her palms and her legs (she usually doesn’t wear shorts, but today is laundry day). Dorothea ties a final bow at the end of Linhardt’s braid, and by now, Linhardt is moments from collapsing onto the grass. Dorothea very kindly lowers his head down onto the ground.

“I hope it lives up to the musical.” Edelgard can hear Dorothea tell Petra softly. Petra only nods emphatically.

Edelgard has stopped worrying about whether Dorothea is integrating well; everyone loves her. Even Hubert, who often gives a three month probationary period before referring to anyone as a _ friend _ had mentioned to Edelgard that he often looks forward to practice, and to listening to Dorothea prattle on about the opera he so enjoyed (the only person he had met that truly understood operatic arts). Dorothea somehow has traits that appealed to everyone.

Ferdinand and Caspar approach them, visibly worn out by their gallivanting.

“Oh, Hubert, appease my rotten and worn soul!” Ferdinand swoons dramatically, throwing himself in front of Hubert’s feet.

Hubert himself looks down to Ferdinand in silence, and haughtily turns his attention back to his cards. Ferdinand doesn’t seem to take it personally, or even notice to begin with.

“Shouldn’t lover boy have already picked you up?” Caspar asks, abruptly crashing through the serene Lorenz-free fantasy.

“He’s busy today,” She responds simply.

Dorothea gasps, and raises a hand to her chest, “Oh, but he’s never too busy for his princess!”

Caspar laughs delightedly, “She’s already onto our jokes!” Caspar exclaims, clapping his hands together.

Edelgard frowns at Dorothea. “He has work.” Truthfully, she’s been avoiding Lorenz since _ the incident _.

“Aw, poor Edie.” Dorothea pouts sympathetically. Her hand falls to Edelgard’s thigh, and Edelgard feels as if her hand is so hot on her thigh that it could leave a burn. Or maybe her thigh is so hot against Dorothea’s hand that it could burn her. “Forced to drive _ herself _ home, what a tragic life for a princess.”

“An _ empress _!” Caspar interjects delightedly.

Dorothea gasps melodramatically, raising the hand from Edelgard’s thigh - oh, the cold air that replaces it - to her own forehead. “Of course! How foolish I was!” Dorothea swoons, throwing herself onto Edelgard’s lap. She shuts her eyes tightly and cries out, “Please do not smite me, Empress Edelgard. ‘Twas an honest mistake, and I am a mere peasant in your eyes!”

Edelgard’s vocal chords have tied themselves into a windsor knot, as has her stomach and the part of her brain that may be able to process complex thought. Right now, she only knows severe embarrassment.

“And I, a poor stable boy!” Caspar joins in, collapsing onto his knees in front of Edelgard. He bows down, nose to grass and hands straight out in front of him.

“C’mon guys, lay off Edelgard.” Ferdinand tells them when he sees Edelgard’s face is nearly the color of her maroon shorts.

Caspar’s head snaps up to glare at Ferdinand, “No fun.” he grumbles.

Dorothea giggles in Edelgard’s lap, “Okay, I’m sorry, you are just so easy to poke fun at.”

Edelgard frowns indignantly. “You’re lucky your father is the court jester, else you would have faced the stock long ago.”

Dorothea and Caspar both burst into a fit of laughter, and Edelgard feels her face crack into a satisfied smile.

“So there is a real person in there, huh.” Dorothea smiles, poking a finger into the flesh of Edelgard’s stomach.

Edelgard yelps, and swats away Dorothea’s hands, “Just a shell, actually.” She teases back, though she isn’t sure if that’s far enough from the truth to be a real joke.

Dorothea only smiles in return, and wiggles her head further into the crook created by Edelgard’s criss-crossed legs. She closes her eyes, and there’s silence for a moment before she huffs and squints open a single eye.

“I have to do everything around here.” She grumbles. She grabs Edelgard’s hand and places it upon the crown of her head expectantly. When Edelgard doesn’t move them, mostly out of confusion, Dorothea whines, “Play with my hair.”

Edelgard stares at her in shock for a moment more before tentatively brushing three fingers over her hair. Dorothea closes her eyes once more, the smallest smile of satisfaction on her lips. Edelgard grows bolder the longer she plays with Dorothea’s hair. Within a few minutes, she’s running her hands through it from scalp to ends. It was soft, and every now and then there was a wafting scent of coconut shampoo or conditioner.

On the outside, it was absolutely serene, but on the inside, Edelgard’s stomach became a battleground of anxiety and self-imposed indigestion.

She tries not to think much of it; she had never had friends play with her hair, nor had she played with someone else’s hair. Lorenz wouldn’t let her anywhere near his hair, claiming the integrity of its meticulous style was far too fragile to be touched. But Dorothea had just been doing the same with Linhardt’s hair, so this must not be out of order for friendships.

No reason for Edelgard to feel on-edge, preparing to be smited down by a god she isn’t sure exists.

Ferdinand sits up suddenly and digs through the front pockets of sweatpants for his phone. “I think I should head home now.” He announces when he sees the time.

“Yes, I should also be driving home now.” Petra agrees. “Do you need me to drive you, Dorothea?”

Dorothea rises from Edelgard’s lap. “Ugh, yeah.” She sighs. “Just to the dorms.”

Edelgard looks down at her thighs, which have just the slightest pink imprint from the collar of Dorothea’s t-shirt.

All at once, everyone rises under the mutual understanding that practice is over.

“See you all next week.” Edelgard tells them, and the sentiment is echoed.

-

**clawed**

hey guys edelgard invited us to a black eagle sleepover

**Hilda <3**

OMG I miss linhardt so much, we HAVE to go

**clawed**

of course we are

**clawed**

i texted u guys to ask who was bringing the booze :)

**Raphael**

I have been brewing my own IPA! I can bring some!

**clawed**

aw thank u big guy

**clawed**

but also please can somebody bring literally anything else

**Raphael**

Caspar would appreciate my IPA :(

**Ignatz!!!**

I know how to make a daiquiri

**Hilda <3**

Ignatz have i ever told u how sexy u r ?

**Ignatz!!!**

Ha ha

**Marianne**

can i go as well?

**clawed **

of course ur always invited !!

**Marianne**

:)

**Leonie Can Bench 250**

I can bring the cheap shit that hits the fastest

**clawed **

leonie have i ever told u how sexy u r ?

**Hilda <3**

Plagiarism

**clawed **

anyways ! caspar’s apartment ! it’s in a few weeks so just keep that in mind. this is a MANDATORY PARTY!! be prepared to take the whole weekend off of work

**Hilda <3**

I thought it was just a sleepover with booze

**clawed **

not as long as im on the guest list bb

**big bitch lys**

oh sick

**clawed **

dw ill put ur 4loko in a sippy cup

**big bitch lys**

is edelgard gonna be there

**big bitch lys**

shut up i hate u

**clawed **

ya she’s the team captain what kind of question is that

**Hilda <3**

Awwww i almost forgot about ur crush on edelgard <333 how cute

**big bitch lys**

i dont want to be on the frisbee team anymore

**Hilda <3**

so tragic abt her n lorenz, she had so much lesbian potential

**clawed **

i don’t believe in her and lorenz

**Hilda <3**

ooo conspiracy time??

**big bitch lys**

its not a crush i just think shes cool 

**Hilda <3**

Sounds like a crush lol

**clawed **

its all a rouse… im absolutely sure

**Ignatz**

I’ve heard Edelgard explicitly say she’s straight.

**Hilda <3**

Unbelievable.

**Leonie Can Bench 250**

Just bc we’re all gay doens’t mean they also have to be all gay

**Raphael**

I’m not gay

**Leonie Can Bench 250**

You’re kinda gay

**Raphael**

Ok

**clawed **

it just doesn’t make sense

**Hilda <3**

edelgard, while standing eight feet away from her bf lorenz and gagging everytime he opens his mouth: im straight

**clawed **

lorenz, while standing eight feet away from his gf edelgard and also while dressed like That: i am straight.

**big bitch lys**

do i really seem like i have a crush on edelgard???

**clawed **

bby….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there sorry this took me so long for just 3k words, i'm approaching finals & absolutely losing my mind about it. also sword/shield came out :( . next chapter is the sleepover, get ready to go ape ! sure would be a shame if i projected my deep lesbian yearning onto edelgard in this next chapter ...

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! questions/comments/concerns greatly appreciated! you can find me @cowboykaiju on twitter (i just made this twt last month specifically to post abt fe3h) or kingkroool on tumblr ! hit me up if u wanna hold hands or teach me how to put emojis in ao3 because my brain is very small


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